


Broken Bitch Toy

by heffermonkey



Series: Fics inspired by Prompts [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Prison, Prison Sex, non con references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heffermonkey/pseuds/heffermonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the season finale of Season One - In prison, Steve becomes Victor's bitch</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Bitch Toy

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt - 
> 
> 'Steve/Victor, noncon, while in prison Victor makes Steve his bitch' 
> 
> However it doesn't contain the non-con element in much detail.

Steve's been moved from cell unit to cell unit like he's on a never ending carousel. Each one comes with it's fair share of thugs and miscreants, usually one of two he put in there himself. Before he became a criminal himself. He's losing the will to believe he will ever get out, he's been there so long he's starting to settle into the mindset that this is life now and always will be. He tries not to let the guilt, the shame overwhelm him at the idea of the people who he's dissapointed. Can't deal with the idea of what his father would have had to say if he were still alive. 

The guard opens the main door, slides the barred door open and Steve enters yet another unit, eyed up by it's occupants. They all know who he is, like a local celebrity, he's talked about. Steven McGarrett, law man and SEAL fallen from grace and right into their waiting hands. He's moved around because sooner or later there is trouble, but he can't be afforded solitary, there isn't a spare cell to give him and why should he be given special treatment any way. It isn't like he can't look after himself. One man against ten - fair deal Steve tries to assure himself. But every day the battle gets harder and he knows he's on a losing streak. 

Before he's even managed to locate a new bed for himself his fellow inmates are closing in. A few loud whispers, looks, prods with fingers. One sidles up to him, all muscle, bad breath and a raw looking scar over his left eye. 

"Making yourself at home princess?" He asks, right up in Steve's face and Steve tells himself not to flinch from the stench and stares the guy down. 

"What, this your bunk?" He replies, the bunk is empty, sheets folded neatly atop the matress just waiting for an occupant. 

"Fuck yeah brah," the guy says, spittle landing on Steve's jaw. "All these bunks belong to me. Course, if you're good I may let you take it." 

Steve bats his hand away with a snarl before he can make any more advances as the guys fingers land on his hip. But he has back up and Steve can only do so much against five men who grab him, taunting and mocking. He wonders how long it's going to take the guards to break it up this time but then a voice barks out above the rest. It's familiar and makes his skin crawl, a cold shiver runs up his spine. 

"Leave him be," Hesse says above the noise of the crowd, bodies falling back to let him through. 

Hands let go of his arms and Steve straightens up, hands balled into fists as soon as he gets Victor in his sights. Victor pauses in front of him, gives him a knowing smile and looks at the guy who started the brawl in the first place. 

"He's mine," Victor points out before he turns away and jerks his head for Steve to follow. 

Steve contemplates staying where he is, weighing up his options, but Victor summons him with a sharp 'Steven' and he finds himself walking. He follows Victor to another cell, both beds are evidently taken and looks at Victor waiting. 

"You'll stay here with me," Victor explains like it's been planned all along. 

"Looks like it's already taken," Steve says, backing up a little. "No thanks." 

"There'll be a vacancy soon," Victor replies. 

"I think I prefer to take my chances elsewhere Hesse," Steve tells him. 

Victor laughs at him, a loud, mocking amused laugh at that and beckons him further into the cell. 

"Fuck McGarrett," Victor says shaking his head like Steve's the stupidest man he's ever met. "How long are you going to pretend you can make it on your own in here? I can protect you, make things easy for yourself, take the offer. Because you're breaking McGarrett, they may not see it. But I do, and it won't be long before they smell that defeat. They're like bloodhounds, just waiting for you to break. Let me help you." 

"Fuck you Hesse," Steve replied, shaking his head even though he knew it was true. He was breaking, every day just a tiny bit of his strength broke down. And his days were turning into long months. 

"Your choice Steven," Victor shrugged, leaning back against the bunk beds. "You step back out there don't think anyone is going to step in and help you." 

"I've managed so far," Steve told him. 

"Yeah," Victor laughed again, rolling his eyes at him. "Sure you have." 

Steve understood his meaning. He'd yet to spend more than a week in one of the units, it was becoming exhausting continually going through the battle of taking care of number one against new cell mates who all wanted their fair share of revenge against the system. He was managing to survive, but only just. But was this what it had come to - accepting Victor Hesse's help? He knew it didn't come free, it would come at a price. 

"What do you want Victor?" Steve asked him, moving back into the cell. 

"I think we can come up with some arrangement for you to - earn - your protection Steven," Hesse promised with a dark look. "That is, if you're accepting the offer." 

"Fuck you," Steve spat out. He didn't want to contemplate Victor's intentions. 

"I was thinking more 'fuck you' Steven, though I'm open to possibilities," Victor smiled. 

Steve backed up to the door, giving a shake of his head and turning. 

"Think about it," Victor said from behind him. "The offer is open until lights out tonight." 

~ 

Steve knew his options were all dire, there was a slim chance he'd make it a few days in this unit but at what price. He'd avoided any serious infractions so far, but he knew it was coming, at some point his luck was going to run out. He spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in a corner, alert for any oncoming danger, aware he still hadn't a bunk to sleep in. He eyed his fellow occupants who all cast him promising glances, they could bide their time before they made their move. Victor sat just in his eye line accross the room, giving him long expectant stares, whispered a few words to his fellow inmates. He made it perfectly clear who was in charge in this particular unit and Steve hated that his fate now lay in Victor Hesse's hands. 

He couldn't understand why Victor didn't just set his dogs onto him, he evidently held sway over the other inmates. Enough of them to be able to cause some serious damage to him before the guards could get into the unit. Instead they left him alone, left him to decide his own fate. Steve felt helpless, once more wondering how circumstances had brought him to this point. He balled his hands into fists thinking how Victor was involved in those circumstances, how because of his actions he'd ended up with 5-0, and ultimately there, in a jail cell. And now he was the person offering Steve a lifeline to survive jail. Steve wondered when it was he'd pissed off the Island gods so badly that this was the fate they'd decided for him. 

One by one inmates drifted off to their cells, Steve watched as a man carried his few belongings from Victor's cell and ducked into another. Eventually it was just Steve and Victor until Victor swaggerred off, giving him an expectant look. Steve swallowed down hard, tried not to think what Danny would think of him when he found out. Maybe he wouldn't tell him, maybe it would be better if Danny didn't know. With heavy leaden footsteps Steve walked accross the unit, ignoring the low knowing whistles from inmates, what they implied. 

"Looks like Vic's found himself a new bitch," said a voice. Steve shot a glance to his side, saw the man who'd squared up to him over the bunk leaning against his barred door, giving a leery smile. 

Ignoring him, but feeling a flush in his cheeks at the implication, at the knowing it was true, he stepped into Victor cell to find the man sat on the small lone chair of the room. Victor looked up at him with a smile as the door slid automatically closed behind him, lock grinding into place. A few moments later the lights clicked off and they were left in muted shadows. 

~ 

He managed to keep quiet about his 'cellmate' for a few months before anyone found out. He explained that he'd finally settled into a unit that didn't give him too much trouble, some, but nothing he couldnt handle. It was half true, because the guys of the unit did give him trouble, but not because he was 5-0 but because he was Victor's bitch. Victor encouraged the mocking, the fondling and Steve usually batted hands away and told them to 'fuck off' but never caused enough commotion to cause guard presence. Part of him had to admit he was onto a good thing, no more moving about. 

But Victor was also surprisingly private when it came to the two of them. He didn't deny anything if their fellow inmates intimated the kind of things they did to each other once the lights were out. He was more than happy to swap techniques of how to 'tame' and 'train' a bitch over meal times. But physically he never more than ran a hand over Steve's arm, rested a hand on his shoulder when around others. He didn't ever demand a show of 'submission' from Steve when they had an audience. 

Steve never asked why, afraid it may cause Hesse to start doing those things. Steve could handle the mocking taunts of his fellow prisoners, could even stand sitting there whilst Hesse praised or complained about him over whatever sexual scenario they'd gotten into the evening before. But actually being seen to be Victor's bitch, that was something Steve knew would break him more than a gang of inmates attacking him. 

Victor kept the wolves at bay, for the time being. And Steve knew it was a tenuous position, Victor could be hard to please and on many occasions threatened to be rid of him. It only made Steve shut out whatever voices inside that told him what he was doing was the majorly fucked up kind of wrong. Because Victor had become a lifeline, Steve was still breaking and he had nothing else to keep him from fully losing it. 

It helps him put the brave face on every week Danny visits, he's stored up strength for that. A half hour conversation that saps him of everything by the time he leaves. He's stopped believing Danny's optimism that he's going to get out, that they've found a new lead, a promising one this time. The evidence will stick. He doesn't tell Danny this, but he tells Victor, every time he gets back to the cell it's like a confessional. 

Once the doors slide shut and the lights go out he gets down on his knees, lets it all flow out. The dread he getsl about Danny's visits. The exhaustion to pretend to believe he'll get out of the situation. The pain he feels looking through the glass, desperate to reach out and touch him and denied even that. Even Danny's voice through the receiver sounds minutely different, enough to not make it him. Victor just sits there listening to him, even rests a hand in his hair like he cares before he draws him close and feeds him his cock. 

The weeks spread out into the endless cycle of months and he returns from Danny's visits every thursday more sorrowful and dreary. Until one morning Victor tells him not to go. It isn't a command, it's just a suggestion and Steve considers it but gives a shake of his head and says no. It's early, the cells are still locked down and Victor gets down from his bunk, makes Steve give him room as he rolls in beside him. Victor presses close, Steve's back up to the wall and he doesn't even avoid Victor's mouth pressing to his anymore. Instead he accepts it, even leans into the touch. 

"How much longer are you going to do this to yourself? How long will you allow him to keep doing this to you?" Victor asks him. 

He doesn't seem to be in the mood for sex, hands not going any further than Steve's waist, a leg slipping between his as Victor gets comfortable. 

"Don't go," Victor says again and Steve thinks maybe he has a point. "As much as I enjoy your pouring your heart out every Thursday evening, I've much better things to be occupying that mouth with than the subject of Daniel fucking Williams." 

Steve doesn't think about the way his mouth curls up so easily at this remark. He doesn't think about how quickly he's become used to Victor being like this with him, how easy it feels. He doesn't think about how he willingly gets to his knees for those Thursday night outpourings. 

"He'll just demand a private meeting with me to explain whats going on," Steve shrugs, knowing Danny's dogged determination. "He wouldn't just accept my not turning up. He'd make it happen." 

"Then go see him today and tell him to stop coming to see you," Victor said. 

If only it were that easy. Steve merely swallows down and sighs, leaning forward enough to rest it against the pillow, head practically curled against Victor's shoulder. 

"He'd need to know why," Steve replied. "I don't think I could face telling him the truth." 

"I'll tell him," Victor told him. "I'll go and see him instead." 

Steve just laughed because Victor really didn't know Danny. Danny would find a way to break through the glass and kill Victor before anyone could stop him. 

"Okay, I'll tell him," Steve sobered up, pressed closer to Victor because that wasn't an enjoyable prospect to start the day with. "He'll hate me for it." 

"Like you hate him," Victor pointed out. "It's only fair he gets to hate you back. At least you can come back and vent it all to me. Who's he got out there?" 

"He used to have me," Steve admitted wryly. 

Victor rolled back and looked at him, a gleam in his eye like he'd won some kind of victory. Steve knew he was the prize and Danny hadn't even known he was competing in a fight for him. He'd lost because he was on the wrong side of the line. Victor slid closer again, this time his fingers sliding under the loose pants Steve wore for bed and fingering deliciously over his cock, giving a squeeze. 

"I have you now," Victor said in a low voice, pressing his mouth close to Steve's ear. His tongue licked out against the lobe as he squeezed and rubbed his cock. "Tell him that. I want you to remember his face when you tell him that and you're going to tell me tonight. Come back here and explain to me what it's like to see him break. The way you're broken Steven. My broken bitch toy. Will you do that for me?" 

Steve drew in a gasp, squeezed his eyes shut and ignored the heavy feeling in the deep of his stomach at Victor's words, their meaning. He groaned as Victor's hand didn't let up, jerking him as his cock responded, growing hard under the onslaught. 

"Promise me Steven, promise me you'll do that for me," Victor whispered again insistently. "Do it for me bitch." 

"Victor," Steve held on to the man, hating his bodies response, burying his head right up against Victor's shoulder. "Yes, I will yes, I promise." 

~fin~


End file.
